


contamination

by varsiity



Series: backstories [6]
Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Children, Ascension, Blood and Injury, Gen, Goddesses, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description, I don't know, Past Character Death, Plague, Prophets, Religious Fanaticism, Self-Sacrifice, Worship, another one of those origin story things dragged on for a thousand words, in general, it's sort of like dreamcatcher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varsiity/pseuds/varsiity
Summary: They question the Plaguebearer's admiration, her devotion to Her, but the acolyte holds her head high and awaits her own ascension.





	contamination

The shroud.

The infection she wears like a cape and a crown, eternal and relentless. The way it winds its way around her legs like a favorite pet. It reeks of disease and screams the screams of all those already lost to the sickness, but its cry is silent to all but the Plaguebearer and the Pestilence that gave birth to it. The sound roars in her ears, and she welcomes it.

She is a vessel - one day, she will be Her high priestess, Her host, preaching the message that the townspeople were foolish enough to ignore the first time. She is a prophet who converts with deadly speed and silent illness, spreading Her message in the only way she knows how. She dons the mask of the plague doctor and roams the streets while wearing the face of benevolence. Disease-carrier under the guise of a bird, they call her, a curse-bearer under the guise of purification, but only she knows the truth. She is Her most trusted disciple. She distributes the very thing she claims to stave away. She will bring Pestilence right to the town’s doorstep before taking her final form.

Her mortal form is disposable. She knows this to be fact, watching the way the disease wreaks havoc on even the body that bears and transmits it. The scars on her shoulders and back are testament enough to its abilities, and even now she feels it inside of her and the gentle touch of its fingers on her skin. Waiting. Watching. Pestilence uses it as Her eyes and uses the Plaguebearer as Her host. The Plaguebearer can think of no higher honor.

She lost her parents to Pestilence, when the plague invaded her hometown and left empty houses and doors painted red in its wake. But the disciple knows that it was necessary. Pestilence held her afterwards, the sickness winding around her as she sat on the dirty floor of her childhood home and sobbed for what she had lost. Pestilence soothed her. Pestilence became her mother and father, the only ones she ever needed or ever would need. Comfort is scarce, but when she completes her mission, she knows she will be rewarded.

It was necessary to destroy the town and all those who dwelled there, for Her to find the most dedicated servant possible. The acolyte knows this so well it might as well be printed on the back of her eyelids. A dedicated servant - one that will never give up on completing Her mission, even in the face of monumental loss. In exchange for the gift of life Pestilence gave to her, the acolyte will give back by letting the disease infect the air and soil. 

She will ignore the destruction it brings to her own body. She will wear the beaked mask and pretend, wrapping her sickly thin form in shawls and long dresses, covering the sores with bandages and cloth. And when it’s time, she won’t need this body anymore, anyway.

Pestilence has promised her so much more, and Pestilence does not lie. 

She alone has been allowed to see the light, if only briefly. That is more than any other townsperson has been given. She will be forever in Pestilence’s debt for only that favor, but Pestilence is gracious to those who serve Her well, and to those who bear Her weight without complaining. The Plaguebearer knows that Pestilence is God and Goddess - all that can ever be needed or wanted. The Plaguebearer knows that worship at the altar of infection is important above all. The Plaguebearer carries her burden with nothing less than pride, pride that she can serve Her in this way, in the only way she knows how. 

Half of the houses in the village are infected already, and the inhabitants don’t notice a thing. The confident Investigator, with bright blonde hair and a cunning smile. The short Mayor, who always smells just slightly of beer. The loud Jester, who speaks as if there are many voices inside of them, all trying to be heard at the same time. The Medium and Retributionist and Veteran and Tracker. The Doctor, who claims to treat illness and has no idea that the most potent one is already living inside of him. 

The Plaguebearer doesn’t darken their doorsteps for long. All it takes is a few words exchanged for the toxins to fill the air, exhaled with every one of the disciple’s breaths. She heads home through the silent streets as the plague inside of her writhes and breathes, strengthening with each new victim - as the already infected pass on the disease to everyone they come into contact with. As Pestilence waits within her, giving directions in the impossibly smooth voice that only the Plaguebearer can hear. And when the unholy blanket of sickness covers every one of Salem’s houses, the change begins.

The transformation itself is agony. The Plaguebearer lies awake, thrashing in her bed as the silent disease inside her swallows her body whole - pockmarking her skin, oozing blood from her pores, flesh sloughing away as the acolyte barely clings to consciousness. Even Pestilence’s gentle comfort cannot quiet the disciple’s screams as her body rots away, leaving skin as thin as paper pulled tight over jutting bones and wasted sockets where her eyes used to be. As something ancient, vicious, and powerful takes up residence in the withered body that used to belong to a human girl.

And when the sun comes up, the disciple knows the ascension is complete, and that She is not a disciple any longer. Now, She is invincible.

The infection is no longer Her burden, not merged with Pestilence as She is - she is Her and her is She. The scared, desperate orphan of before fused with a merciless and inhuman monster. The infection is nothing more than a tool, just like the disease, just like the body that carried Her for this long. The disease is the weapon She will use to level the town and the puny humans within it, and then move on to bring the same fate to every other town She comes across. 

She is alone, just as She was at the beginning of her mission. But companionship is unnecessary. Pestilence and Plaguebearer, together and impossibly strong. Mother and child. And how could She ever need anything else, goddess and prophet finally mingled?

When Salem finally gets a taste of Her power, She will make it unforgettable.

**Author's Note:**

> i do all my best writing at ten pm while wearing nothing but a hoodie and boxers and periodically drinking unhealthy amounts of iced lipton tea
> 
> if you have an extra minute, leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed it! it's nice to see that people enjoy what i write


End file.
